


A Symposium on Spanking the Monkey

by INMH



Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2020) [29]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: First Time, Humor, M/M, Masturbation, Merry Month of Masturbation Challenge, Sexual Content, Smut, Strong Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:41:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24245191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/INMH/pseuds/INMH
Summary: RK900 has zero social skills, but for once, Gavin can work with it.
Relationships: Upgraded Connor | RK900/Gavin Reed
Series: Merry Month of Masturbation Fills (2020) [29]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1690234
Comments: 2
Kudos: 60





	A Symposium on Spanking the Monkey

**Author's Note:**

> Three notes: 
> 
> -This isn’t part of my ‘after the evacuation’ series, so it doesn’t share any continuity with it.
> 
> -It occurs to me that I’ve written several stories about Gavin and RK900, but this is the first sexual/romantic one.
> 
> -I really, really love weird euphemisms for masturbation.

RK900 was, at once, incredibly intelligent and incredibly naïve.  
  
That was an objective, fairly neutral observation that Gavin kept to himself, because out loud he preferred to call RK900 a moron and never, ever admitted that the fucking robot was smarter than he was- intellectually, anyway. Socially, even Gavin was smarter than RK900, and Gavin wasn’t known for his sparkling social skills.  
  
But at least he’s never shown up to someone’s apartment unannounced and stood in their bedroom doorway while they were jacking off.  
  
“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” Gavin was more weary than aggravated, and it’s possible the couple of beers he’d had so far had gone a ways towards smoothing out the edges of his temper.  
  
“I had paperwork to drop off,” RK900 remarked, eyebrows high on his head and not even _pretending_ to look away.  
  
“So you just came into my house _and my bedroom_ without knocking.”  
  
“I _did_ knock- you didn’t answer the door.”  
  
Well, fuck Gavin if he hadn’t been expecting to get a knock at his door at nine o’clock at night on a Wednesday.  
  
He shook his head. His hand was still on his cock, and the Six Million Dollar Asshole over there was still staring. “What?” Gavin rolled his head to the side to look at RK900 head-on. “You never done this before?”  
  
“I’ve never had cause to, no,” RK900 confirmed.  
  
The alcohol had made Gavin looser than he’d realized, because the next words out of his mouth were, “Wanna learn?”  
  
RK900’s eyes widened. “You are intoxicated.”  
  
“I had _two beers,_ you fucking pearl-clutcher. I am obviously still in possession of my fucking faculties- what alcohol I _have_ consumed is the difference between you getting invited into my bed and you getting Castle Doctrine’d for coming into my fucking home without permission.”  
  
RK900 rolled his eyes, an odd moment of exasperation where he didn’t act like a prim little fucking kiss-up.  
  
But he came over to the bed anyway.  
  
“I know the physical mechanics of it,” RK900 grumbled as Gavin pulled at his zipper, the detective snorting once he got it open and saw that RK900 didn’t wear underwear. “I simply haven’t had cause to do it before.”  
  
“Yeah, well, now you do- impress me.” Gavin had to repress a lot of snickering as RK900 ( _pouting_ like a _fucking_ baby the whole goddamn time) started touching himself in the most awkward, uncertain, virgin-like way that Gavin had ever seen anyone touch themselves. “ _Jesus_. Are you certain you know the ‘physical mechanics’ of it?”  
  
RK900 gave him a withering look. “I am aware, yes.”  
  
Gavin scoffed, reaching to down a swig of his remaining beer before taking hold of himself again. He tried to play it subtle, but he was curious as to whether or not RK900 would start copying him to make himself look like less of a fucking virgin; he had that people-pleasing nature a lot of androids had, and Gavin suspected that RK900 wanted to appear competent even at _this_ in some sort of subconscious attempt at winning Gavin’s approval. “Never watched porn before?” Gavin prodded.  
  
RK900’s brow furrowed. “No, of course not.”  
  
“Not ‘of course not’, I don’t know what the fuck you do when we’re not at work, you could be watching CGI porn of C3-PO porking WALL-E for all I know.” _Does CGI porn of C3-PO porking WALL-E even exist?_ Gavin wondered for a moment. _Maybe. Probably. I mean, there’s weirder shit on the internet than-_  
  
Gavin snorted again, choking slightly as he did.  
  
“What?” RK900 grunted.  
  
Gavin started laughing and coughing at the same time. He’d been right: RK900 had started using the exact same hand position and motions that Gavin was using to jack himself off.  
  
_What a **fucking** suck-up._  
  
Hell. Sucking didn’t sound like the world’s worst idea- but that would probably be jumping the gun at bit at this stage.  
  
“Come here, jackass. Let me show you how it’s done.”  
  
Gavin moved over, pulled RK900 down, and replaced his hand with his own.  
  
RK900 seemed surprised, but didn’t put a stop to it. “I think you’ve had more to drink than you realize,” he remarked mildly.  
  
“Is that a _joke_ , Terminator? They actually programmed a sense of humor in you? Color me shocked.” Gavin watched the android’s face as he stroked him, watched as RK900 shifted and squirmed minutely, feeling compelled to move but probably not _wanting_ to give the impression that he was being as affected as he was; people-pleasing or not, Gavin had learned that RK900 did have _some_ sense of pride. “So do you, like, come? Or no?”  
  
“I possess no bodily fluids in that respect, no,” RK900 said, voice a little tight.  
  
“Nah?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“You sure?”  
  
“ _Yes_ ,” RK900 hissed, and then made a strange sound as his hips snapped up, teeth clenching and fingers gripping the sheets with visible force. His LED flickered yellow, and then he went utterly limp; RK900’s chest even heaved the way a human’s would after sex, but since their lungs doubled as a temperature regulation system, it made some sense.  
  
“Huh,” Gavin remarked smugly, examining his hand with exaggerated interest. “You were right: Ghost-loads all day every day, huh?”  
  
RK900 didn’t answer, eyes rolling shut. When they opened again, they flicked less than subtly to Gavin’s lap. “Would it be polite for me to return the favor?” He asked, an eyebrow raised.  
  
Gavin considered for a moment, uncertain.  
  
“Well _fuck_ , if you insist. I’ll walk you through it so you don’t perform as fucking miserably as you did on yourself.”  
  
RK900’s eyes rolled shut.  
  
“Thank you, Detective. I’ll be sure to take notes.”  
  
The amount of sarcasm in his tone was impressive.  
  
“Be sure you do, R2-D2, or I’ll tell everyone in the department about what a fucking virgin you are.”  
  
-End


End file.
